Authors Note- So sorry everyone, updates from me have been extremely rare but then again if I wrote often enough I would probably get bored of the adventure and we don't want that to happen, don't we? No. I apologize for the short chapters but it seems this story will just be one of those ones. Much to my dismay, spewing out long chapters for this story seems to be hard for me. Still I hope you enjoy it, though not much happens.

Chapter 3: About that Desk...

Elizabeth could remember with perfect clarity the exact moment she learnt what pure love was. As an orphan, even in the twenty-first century, it was common enough to be mistreated. That's to say, she wasn't abused in the slightest, simply put, she was forced to share a single adult between twenty or so children and was therefore a little neglected. This meant that simply stepping out the orphanage doors and into the dangerous world filled with god knows what, under the age of nine and without a guardian, was easy.

She, without the slightest bit of hesitation, skipped out the front doors, not at all the least bit annoyed at the lack of attention she was receiving. Leaving the crumbling building that had been her home since a few months after her birth- or so she was told- had become a common thing to her and many of the other willingly or not, abandoned children, not that she was bitter about it. Elizabeth loved the idea that she had far more freedom than was the norm for a child her age, lawful or not. She often likened herself to a bird, unable to stay long in her nest before flitting away in need of a new environment, so being an orphan never hindered her, in fact it was an advantage.

Leaping over puddles of London rainwater, she danced happily down the soaked cobble roads of her home town enjoying the spritz of lightly falling rain. Every once in a while she would stop and stare up into the sky, her lashes working double time to blink away stray water and stick her tongue out to catch a drop before twirling and continue on, ignoring the looks of disapproving adults, all safe and boring under their black umbrellas. None went out of their way to stop her though and so she didn't think to stop dancing in the rain.

Bare feet scampered over cement as stringy wet hair struck out like whips every time she threw her body this way and that, tendrils of brunette hair clinging to her pink cheeks. A hand me down t-shirt clung to her skinny frame as she threw her hands in the air, palms facing the sky in a wave before spinning and tilting her head back to let water run down her neck and face, hair sliding down slick skin from the down pour and rain fell heavily as if response to her small dance dedicated to the sky.

All around her the boring adults retreated into the warm buildings, their umbrellas following them but not Elizabeth, she kept dancing. Foot placed in front of foot, legs crossing, arms swaying, she spun in circles and leaped, no set choreography in mind just pure fun. Water splashed high in a tidal waves as she kicked at various puddles and raindrops bounced of her light skin, eyelashes fluttering as she hummed silly songs and giggled.

Just Lizzie and the rain.

Until it wasn't.

A single note. A single bow drawn against a single string, no finger formed to make a different note. Another note and then another and soon a simple melody was being played. She stopped her dance to stare at the man whose fingers were dancing in the rain on the neck of a violin. The tune was slow and almost waltzy until it stopped and the man playing lifted his head to stare into her eyes, a smile playing on his beard surrounded lips, "Well go on Missy, you can't dance without music."

He started his tune up again and she wondered why he wasn't worried about his violin in the chaotic weather. But still she slowly swayed to the music and curtsied to the man before beginning to dance again. Twirling and dreaming, a butterfly in the wind, Elizabeth in the rain. Lizzie loved dancing in the rain, as much as that man loved music in the rain. Even if she would wake up sick tomorrow, even if that man would end up with a waterlogged violin.

Love was like that.

"So let me get this straight," The blue clad woman started, a hand on her temple that still throbbed nastily after a night of too much alcohol, "You found a portal in time that looks like a writing desk?" The disbelief was clear on her face.

Lizzie paused from her spot behind the counter of the cafe she worked in three times a week, located just below her cheap apartment, before continuing to count the money in her till. Naturally, after freaking out and crying in relief that her sanity was not exactly on leave she had resolved to keep quiet and not tell anyone. However, anyone who is female knows that best friends don't count in those types of promises, they were the ones that knew every creepy detail there was about you. Including the ones that made you look insane.

She continued counting money until the weight of her best friends eyes became too much for her and she peeked up through thick lashes to give a small smile. "Well, I mean, it could be a portal in time. The writing desk is centuries old but it could be a portal to a different dimension or-" A hand was abruptly thrown up into her face as Charlotte began furiously rubbing at her temple.

"So let me get this straight. You found a portal in time," Charlotte paused, "Or dimension that spews out letters from some supposedly cute guy," Here Lizzie blushed lightly having been the one to inform her of the mysterious brothers ways, "And you just write back? Do you have any sense of self preservation? He could be an alien Lizzie, here to find suitable candidates for probing! And now because of your bleeding heart I wont see you for seven years only to one day find you buck naked in a corn patch looking exactly the same and with amnesia. How will I explain this to amnesia-Elizabeth? How Lizzie?"

Charlotte of course, was studying to become a writer. Originally she had studied your basic business classes and the lot before declaring it boring and switching to creative writing much to her parents dismay and Elizabeth's delight. Lizzie never wanted her friend to spend years of her life doing something she hated. Not to mention, Charlotte wasn't the best with numbers. Unfortunately, Lizzie's best friends's imagination skyrocketed after the first week.

"Char, that's absolutely ridiculous." She said closing up the till with a light ting and moving out back to find something to wipe the benches down with.

Charlotte jumped over the counter to help out her friend, sending a pointed look her way. "More ridiculous than time portals. Or writing to a dead guy, who may or may not be super ass sexy?"

Scoffing, Elizabeth turned to throw a cloth at the older brunette. "No way. The way he writes, he's definitely the shy geeky type. You know those adorable intellectuals?" Elizabeth paused to think her next words through. It was odd to think of what the man looked like when all she knew about him came from two letters, which didn't exactly make her sane of mind to others. "I think...I think he'll be of average height, mousy brown hair, thin but so male. And his eyes would be an unassuming brown, no one takes the time to just stop and just look."

Lizzie blushed realizing how she must have sounded, like a child with her imaginary friend, but Charlotte just giggled, her hands fluttering about. "Go on." She insisted brightly.

Tucking a stray hair behind her pierced ear, Lizzie gave an equally excited grin, though more subdued. "He loves his sister, there's no doubt about that. So a family man." She said with a girlish giggle and making her want to slap herself silly from how childish she sounded but Charlotte merely 'Ohed' and 'Ahhed' which served to spurn her forward.

"But he had a difficult time trying to convey his affections so he's super shy. He's probably really pale and blushes often enough to make him a strawberry. He sounds- writes, like a real sweetheart and mature too. Though childish when excited." Lizzie sighed, "I guess what they say is true, the gentlemen is a rare species. I mean, I thought I knew what a well mannered man was but this guy. God, makes me wish I was born into the days of long gone. He thinks I'm some celestial being." She ended with another giggle, more embarrassed than the last.

"Like an angel or something?" Charlotte asked while wiping the green marble counter of the kitchen down. "Cause if I were you, I'd be all over that."

Elizabeth threw another cloth at her friend who stepped to the side to avoid collision, "God Charlotte! It's not like that!" This only made her friend shriek with laughter, "Sure it isn't sweetheart." Charlotte said through her snickers.

With warm cheeks Lizzie glared slightly before pausing, "Thanks for believing me Char."

"Don't be stupid Lizzie. In all the time I've known you, not once have you lied to me. I've got no reason not to believe you, " Charlotte tilted her head to side thoughtfully, "Except for all modern science, laws of physics and religion. But those have never really mattered to me."

Lizzie laughed lightly, "I'm glad I have you Char."

The weather was not particularly great, when Lizzie hesitantly stepped into the same antique shop that had sold her the desk, which meant that it was practically a storm out there. However, with great determination, she was intent on getting some amount of information on her purchase. Ignoring the annoying high pitched ring of the bell that announced her presence, she unbuttoned her rain poncho that would have many fashion police screeching in outrage, no matter the time period. Placing it on the coat hook placed just to the left of the entrance Lizzie winced as she watched droplets of rain make its way down the plastic folds and dripping onto the cleanly polished dark wood panels on the floor- though, inwardly glad that the surface beneath her waterlogged flats was not in fact, carpet.

A warm and throaty chuckle interrupted her silent remorse causing her to snap to attention. A tall women in her late years of life watched her situation with laughter in her dark brown eyes. "Don't worry, dear. The floors shall survive, though I can't say the same for you. Look at you, like a drowned rat. Can I get you a cup of tea? Something nice to warm you up?" The woman smiled, a touch of concern now obvious in her smile.

Embarrassed, Lizzie could only imagine what she looked like, dark hair plastered to her face and nesting a few leaves and twigs. All the while her footwear leaked and she couldn't remember if the mascara she put on this morning was waterproof or not. Trying to be subtle, she used both hands to swipe under her eyes just in case. "Tea sounds lovely, thank you."

"Take a seat, deary. I'll grab you a towel." She gestured to the wonderfully cushioned chair in the center of the shop before walking out into another door, most likely to find her a towel.

Lizzie sighed, sending a quick sorry to the beautiful chair she was about to ruin, she sat down in a rush, afraid she would lose her nerve to destroy such a thing. Immediately the thick fabric of the cushions started to soak up the liquid straight from the fabric of her own clothes. With disbelief, Lizzie stared at the chair beneath her and a bout of insanity silently question the inanimate object if it was thirsty, before slapping herself for her stupidity. Apparently the last couple of days had left her with an imagination boost.

The clack of low heels on wood had her looking up as the woman entered the front store once more and placed a fluffy purple towel on her lap. "I've already put the kettle on dear."

Thanking her, Lizzie unfolded the towel to press it against the tip of her braid, watching the woman from the corner of her eyes. Long white hair was pulled back in a coiffed bun and was obviously well taken care of. The woman's clothing were stylish but comfortable and the thin physique spoke of the beautiful young girl, she once was. In her dark eyes, Lizzie could see the mischief and men she had ensnared and in the lines of her face, the fun and laughter she had experienced and in her red painted lips, the peace she now had, the comfort, the love.

"Forgive me dear," The woman spoke with a frazzled shake of her hand, "I forgot to introduce myself, I am Karen." She leaned forward to extend her hand, "And you are?"

Lizzie with now dry hands, took the wrinkled hands of her new acquaintance and gave it two quick pumps, used to having to assure people of her confidence, mainly when meeting new mentors. "Elizabeth, Lizzie if you like. A pleasure to meet you Karen."

"Like wise, Elizabeth." Karen stated with a warm nod, completely ignoring the nickname and causing Lizzie to smile. "So, how may I help you, Elizabeth?"

Lizzie sucked in air before letting it out, "You sold me a desk not too long ago, a male writing desk?"

Karen smiled, eyes twinkling merrily, "Ah, that old thing."